


The Red Lounge

by Demenscous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Post Time Skip, There will be violence, and character pairings with the reader, as i add more to the au, def not me thats for sure, haikyuu boxing au, haikyuu fight club au, haikyuu fighting au, ill add more to the tags, ill probably end up including more, many other characters will make an appearance throughout this au, the characters tagged so far are the characters i plan on including, there will also be multiple povs, there will be angst, there will be blood - Freeform, there will be tension, this is just in the beginning stages, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28064508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demenscous/pseuds/Demenscous
Summary: High stakes, higher risks, but winner gets all.Don’t speak of it, don’t mention the name, and if you even think about telling another, you won’t get very far.Welcome to The Red Lounge.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Reader, Haikyuu!! Ensemble/Reader, Hinata Shouyou/Reader, Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader, Kageyama Tobio/Reader, Kozume Kenma/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader, Miya Osamu/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Reader, Suna Rintarou/Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader
Comments: 130
Kudos: 105





	1. I. The Plan (Kuroo)

**Author's Note:**

> this is a hq fight club au I’ve been wanting to do for awhile now inspired by the art of @minghuaa_art on twitter. In this au, the boys who pursued a volleyball career have instead chosen the path of boxing (same thing applies to their younger selves)--there will be inclusions of other characters as well besides just those.  
> this series will follow different storylines for multiple character x reader pairings and will have possible extra scenes
> 
> Important: this series does follow a chronological timeline, if there is a flashback it will be specified. The character x reader plot that the chapter focuses on will also be specified in the parentheses of the chapter title

Liquor and blood.

If you had to describe The Red Lounge in two words, it would be liquor and blood. A cloying concoction that kept you hesitant in visiting the underground fight club tucked beneath a nondescript building that acted as a mere front for the real business occurring only twenty feet below.

Pulling your coat tighter around your chest, you opened the door to the mundane restaurant, the savory aroma of cooking food meeting you almost immediately. A few patrons were scattered throughout, enjoying their meal or conversing with a friend, and to the untrained eye, this was nothing more than a quiet bar. But you knew better; you were well aware that at least two of the sitting customers were disguised security, that the middle-aged woman working the register had a gun hidden in the drawer of her booth, that just behind the door at the farthest end of the room there was a hidden stairwell to access The Lounge.

And, yet, it all looked so terribly normal.

“I was wondering when you’d finally show.” Kuroo was walking out of the kitchens with a damp rag in his hands, wiping away at something you couldn’t see; and when he exited from behind the counter, a smile played on the corner of his lips as he offered you the crook of his arm, “Shall we?”

* * *

**One Year Prior**

“You’re joking, right?”

Kuroo watched you over the rim of his glass as he drank the rest of its contents, setting it down on a side table before turning to you, “If I was joking, don’t you think I’d be laughing right about now?”

Your own glass still remained in your hands, as it had been the moment Kuroo gave it to you once you’d seated yourself on the couch, “You’re insane.”

“No, I’m just an opportunist--try not to confuse the two.”

You wanted to shake your head, to laugh along with his amused tone, but not when the reality of his propositions felt more serious than they had thirty minutes ago.

The amber drink in your hold became all the more tempting to drown the rising exasperation, “Do you understand how illegal that is?”

“Then we don’t get caught.” Kuroo reached toward a manila envelope on the surface of the table, offering it for you to take once he was facing you again.

Your fingers unclasped the metal brackets, sifting through the contents of the envelope as Kuroo’s previous words lurked in your thoughts, “ _We’ll find a cute little building, bland and ordinary, so that it blends in with the city. Then, we’ll create a legitimate business to combine sales from that with the income of the fight club--I’ve already spoken to a few investors on the down low who’ve agreed to pitch in, Kenma being one of them, but this could really work, y/n._ ”

“So?” He was leaning in, brows raising in question, “You in or what?”

The papers felt cold in your hands, the pads of your fingertips dancing along the edges, “You could lose your job--Kenma could lose his job, _anyone_ could lose their job by just even entertaining the idea of being involved in this, Kuroo.”

“Not if everyone keeps their mouth shut about it.”

“This is a bad idea--”

Kuroo waved a dismissive hand, “Yeah, you keep saying that, but you’re not exactly saying _why_ it’s such a bad idea besides the obvious legality issues.”

He spoke with such nonchalance on the subject it had your mouth thinning in irritation, “Fine, legality issues aside, you’d not only have to find the right building, but you’d have to hire the right people to do renovations on the underground portion where you plan on holding this ‘ _club_ ’ and hope they don’t get suspicious and blab. You’d have to pay workers to run the legitimate business _and_ the illegitimate business. You’ll need to think of contracts for those who attend or work there to ensure secrecy--”

“Done.”

You blinked, “What?”

“All the minor details that you were just going to keep listing off--they’ve been thought over already, a majority of them are going to be taken care of by trusted investors.”

Lightly scoffing, you shifted the alcohol to rest on a knee, “You talk about all of this as if you couldn’t have some form of mutual combat charges filed against you and anyone else associated with you.”

“That’s because they won’t be.” Kuroo leaned back, draping a long arm across the top of the couch, “Charges like that are difficult to secure for a conviction--in short, they’re more of a pain in the ass to deal with than what they’re actually worth, and even then, I’ve managed to gather the support of some very influential people with _very_ large bank accounts that could easily pay off the police if something were to happen.”

A muscle in your jaw tightened at the audaciousness of it all.

“Anyways, what do you think of the name ‘ _T_ _he Red Lounge’_?” And just as quickly as the tensions had risen, Kuroo was diffusing it with an air of casualty in his question.

You merely stared at him with a peeved expression, “Kuroo.”

“That bad? I have other names picked out, there’s--”

“ _Kuroo_.”

He paused, eyes quickly finding yours, “Hm?”

“Why the hell did you invite me to your house to talk about all the ways to land in prison?”

“I don’t remember talking about _that_ \--”

“Will you stop it with the bullshit? I am _not_ going to be part of the reason why you end up behind bars with your name in some newspaper headline, so why would you think that I’d even consider agreeing to do something like this?”

He ran a hand along his jaw, reaching the back of his neck, “Well, you haven’t stormed out yet, so I’m assuming that’s not a solid ‘no’ from you.”

“That doesn’t make it a solid ‘yes’, either!” You slumped back against the cushions, fingers drawing circles along your temple, “What do you want from me, Kuroo? To work at this so-called ‘ _fight club_ ’? To invest money? Give you the go-ahead? Because I’m not understanding how you envision me being involved in this plan of yours.”

“Your support--that’s all I’m asking for, is your support.” His voice was gentle as he spoke, no more was the mirth of before.

“I can’t support something like this, I’m sorry. I can’t just step back and watch you continue to walk down this path while I applaud for you from the sidelines like a personal fucking cheerleader.”

You could tell he was suppressing a grin with the way he pressed his lips together, “You’d make a pretty hot cheerleader--probably an even hotter ring girl, too.”

“I’m being serious.” Gripping the now perspiring glass, you had half a mind to douse his expensive suit with it.

“So am I.”

* * *

**Present Time**

And he had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i just wanted to post this tonight so that i can get this off my thoughts and focus on my work for once bc its due in two days and i have around 100 questions left to do. Also just earlier i was drinking my tea and my throat decided it would be a good time to cough--long story short, i got tea everywhere,, it was very traumatic  
> anywayss, im pretty excited to see where i end up taking this and how i organize this whole thing BUT YEAH IM ACTUALLY IN LOVE W THIS SO FAR LIKE FBJDSFHLSBFD  
> i hope yall enjoyed the introduction of The Red Lounge !! make sure you're taking care of yourself, eating enough food, drinking enough water, and good luck to everyone who has finals this week i believe in yall !! (and on a side note: be careful when u drink ur tea, dont be like me)
> 
> Other Socials  
> Tumblr: demxnscous


	2. II. The Visit (Kuroo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curiosity can be dangerous, but how dangerous?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually meant for this part to be longer but I’m too impatient and I thought this was a good stopping point, there’s also a lot of legality issues and boxing legalities that I’ll be addressing in the upcoming parts bc this is only the second part,, but anyways happy holidays everyone !!

“You know, I still saved you a little costume--just in case you ever change your mind about the whole ‘ring girl’ thing.”

You scoffed quietly, shaking your head as Kuroo’s hand came to rest at the small of your back when you lightly pushed his offering arm away, chuckling at his mocking attempt of chivalry. 

His touch on your back was warm and insistent on leading you outside once again to where the cold bit at your nose, “Kuroo, where the hell are we going? Isn’t it just through that door next to the kitchens?”

He huffed a laugh, his breath clouding in front of him as he ushered you around the building corner and into the deepening shadows, “That’s for emergencies only, sweetheart, the real entrance is over here.”

 _Sweetheart_.

The pet name sluiced through your thoughts, constricting tightly around the line the two of you had drawn between personal and work life.

Despite working for the Japan Professional Boxing Association alongside Kuroo, and eventually befriending him due to that, nearly two years later and his casual usage of teasing endearments never failed to make you question if he treated his other female friends the same--or if this was just for you.

A gentle tapping at the base of your spine had you lifting your head to him, drawing you from your contemplations.

“If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. I promise my feelings won’t be hurt.” Kuroo’s last sentence came out on a few light-hearted chuckles, eyes softening as he let his head tilt to the side to better see you.

You realized then that he must’ve mistaken your sudden quietness for apprehension and regret, “No, no, I’m fine, just thinking.”

He hummed, slowing his strides to an easy pace to match your own, “A drink for your thoughts?”

The both of you rounded the back of the restaurant side by side, your attention immediately snagging on two brusque men sharing a pack of cigarettes outside of a metal door with a single light curving above it.

“Last I remembered, that’s not how the saying went.” From your peripheral, you watched Kuroo incline his head slightly to the men who then returned the gesture before slipping back into hushed conversation. Though, one of them deliberately eyed your figure as he took a draw from his cigarette, giving you an impish grin while his companion continued to speak.

You felt Kuroo’s hand tense imperceptibly where it still remained touching your body, but he said nothing as he typed in a code on the number pad next to the handle of the door, letting the light blink green before pulling it open on silent hinges. He motioned you to go ahead of him as he fell in place behind you--he would deal with the security guard that had been leering at you later, when you were safe at home and tucked into bed.

Warmth greeted you in a welcoming embrace as you stepped inside the small room, Kuroo shutting the door with an echoing _click_ that skittered off of the floor and surrounding walls of smoothed concrete. On the right wall, a receptionist's booth was inlaid in the space, a barrier of plexiglass with an opening at the bottom separating the older woman from any customers, another door beside it for the receptionist to enter and exit when need be.

“Ah,” the receptionist looked up from the stack of documents she’d been inspecting, “this must be her?” She pulled out a separate packet of pages from below her desk, sliding it beneath the barrier and onto the lip of metal that had been placed there for customers to use.

He nodded, taking the pen the receptionist handed him before offering it to you.

“A pretty thing like her doesn’t belong in a place like this, dear.” She sighed, shaking her head like an exasperated mother. And if it wasn’t for her maternal tone, you would have taken offense to being spoken about as if you weren’t standing directly in front of her, pen hovering over the contract as you read its contents.

Kuroo’s lips parted with a retort aimed toward the disapproving woman, but you were already turning to him, the tip of your pen pointing at the paper, “Kuroo, what is this?”

“Consider it a printed promise that if anything happens, you can’t sue me.” He placed an elbow on the counter, resting his chin in a hand with a smirk that verged on sardonic.

“How ominous,” you muttered, eyes sliding over the fine print.

_In the event that an accident is to occur, any visitors of the property that have been affected by said event in any and all forms will, hereby, agree to not press charges against The Red Lounge or its employees. Visitors will take full responsibility for collateral damages if evidence of their involvement is provided._

_By signing this document, you agree to maintain secrecy on your affiliations with The Red Lounge, you will comply with the listed rules located on the next page of this document…_

And so the contract continued on, covering nearly every base possible and ensuring no loopholes remained for a customer to weasel their way out of the comprehensive agreement.

All ten pages of it.

You ran a hand over your mouth, the other flipping through the papers and skimming the endless lines of ink, “Fucking hell, Kuroo, is ten pages really necessary?”

He shrugged, using a finger to tap on the signature line once you’d reached the final page, “Better safe than sorry. Besides,” he came up behind you, his abdomen grazing your back as he took your hand and poised it over the blank space, “this _was_ all your idea, don’t you remember?”

With the way he was looming behind you, leaning in to speak by your ear, waiting for you to sign your pretty little signature in the black ink--it felt like signing your soul away to the Devil himself.

Oh, and who knew the Devil wore tailored suits and went by the name of Kuroo Tetsurou?

He retracted his touch, letting his own hands come to rest on either of your shoulders as he watched you form the loops and whorls of your name. When you finished, you set the pen atop the packet, returning it back under the plexiglass and to the receptionist who was mumbling about someone being ‘ _too flirtatious for his own good’._

You waited silently in Kuroo’s hold as the older woman ensured you hadn’t missed any needed initials before stamping a red seal beneath your signature, what you assumed was likely the organization’s seal.

“And how will you be paying?” The receptionist didn’t spare you a glance as she tidied her desk.

Your eyes widened immediately, “I’m sorry, what?”

“She won’t be paying tonight--or any night afterwards, if she chooses to come back.” Kuroo interjected, already pulling you along to the door at the other end of the space, mirroring that of the entrance from which you came.

“Wait, is there some fee I’m supposed to be paying?”

A metallic buzzing sound signaled the unlocking of the door--likely controlled by the receptionist then, considering Kuroo hadn’t used another code.

“For patrons, there’s quite the hefty cost, but with the type of people that come here, it won’t be putting a dent in their bank accounts any time soon.”

You let him guide you down the stairwell, lit solely by a single neon sign that painted the same concrete walls in a blaring red.

 _The Red Lounge_.

Those were the words that hung above as you descended the staircase, holding onto the metal rail for support.

“Y/n.”

“Yeah?” You were reaching the final step, two more brutish guards waiting on either side of a pair of double doors at the end of the short hallway that opened before you.

“You can still back out if you want to. I can drive you home, we can forget all about this and you’ll never have to come here again if that’s what you want.”

It was sweet, you thought, that he was being cognizant of your feelings, insistent on ensuring you truly wanted to do this, despite it being _you_ who had sent the text. You, who had been so overwrought with curiosity one night that you couldn’t even fall asleep. You, who had messaged Kuroo at nearly two in the morning asking if he could take you to the underground fight club because you wanted to see it-- _just once_ , you told him.

But it was Kuroo who had responded back within the minute, agreeing with a teasingly cheeky text.

Seeing him now, face furrowed with concern, was strange considering his previous enthusiasm. It made you wonder what exactly worried him.

“Well, I didn’t take the train here for nothing.”

“I’m being serious.”

Yes, it truly was sweet, but it wasn’t the Kuroo you had grown so used to, not when he was using the exact phrase you had once said to stop him from making a mistake he might have come to regret.

Though, this time, the roles were reversed as you offered him a smile, “So am I.”

It seemed Kuroo had realized this as well, exhaling deeply but returning the expression before leading you down the hall as he walked by your side. The two guards, one a man and the other a woman, opened the doors--and you didn’t know what to think.

But, if you had to describe The Red Lounge in _one_ word, it would be lavish.

Staggeringly lavish.

Your eyes were scanning left and right, every nook and cranny, every decoration and furniture choice; and Kuroo allowed you a moment to take it all in. 

The room itself was larger than you had anticipated, the bar nestled against the back wall with seating and lounging areas on either side of the underground space. And in the midst of it all--a boxing ring.

“What do you think?” Kuroo was speaking lowly by your ear once more, watching your attention snag on workers preparing for the opening in less than an hour.

“When you told me you wanted to start an underground fight club,” you paused, gaze following a frantic waitress setting down stoppered glass pitchers of water on each table, “ _this_ wasn’t what I was imagining.”

No, you had been imagining rough edges, stained floors, and cheap whiskey; not red velvet cushions, not intricately carved wood detailing, not expensive and possibly imported liquor, anything _but_ what you were currently surrounded by.

“I thought I mentioned I had some wealthy investors.”

He had, you recalled.

“Anyways,” Kuroo began, stepping in the direction of the bar, motioning with his head for you to follow, “you’re in for a real show tonight.”

“Is that so?” You trailed behind him, workers giving their greetings to Kuroo, their oh so generous boss.

He was removing his suit jacket now, handing it off to a security guard with a grateful nod before pushing up his sleeves and adjusting the watch strewn across his left wrist, “Do you remember Sakusa Kiyoomi and Miya Atsumu?”

Of course you did.

How could you ever forget _them?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man this next part is gonna interesting, I have an idea on where I'm gonna go w it but also I'm thinking about how I'm going to organize all of the different parts that are all going to have different characters and different reader povs (some characters may have more or less parts than others). also I'd like to say that these little scenarios are, most likely, gonna remain short, nothing too long,, 
> 
> anywayss, for your (not so) daily dose of oversharing: i tried opening up an envelope that I knew had money in it and I ended up getting the deepest paper cut I've ever gotten. it hurt like a bitch. but hey i got $150,, no pain no gain baby (i guess thats what my money hungry ass gets, it still hurt tho)
> 
> as always make sure ur drinking enough water, eating enough food, and taking care of yourself, i love you all so so much 
> 
> Other Socials  
> Tumblr: demxnscous


	3. III. The Rogue (Atsumu)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it was his smile...or maybe it was the way he was so unpredictable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for clarification, this reader pov is different than that of the last two chapters as this is the beginning of a different storyline

“Do you know who’s scheduled for tonight?”

Your coworker, and friend, continued to blot her red lipstick, the matching color required for all of the girls, as she watched her reflection’s brows lower in thought before answering you, “I think it’s Miya and Sakusa--I don’t know, that’s just what I overheard someone else saying, I haven’t checked the schedule yet.”

Facing the mirror above the counter, you touched up your own makeup, adjusting the black bodysuit that you donned on the nights where you played ring-girl and not waitress.

Tonight happened to be one of those nights.

The outfit’s sleeves extended to your wrists, accentuated with a low cut neckline; underneath, you wore fishnets along your legs, tall and sleek black heels on your feet. On paper, the uniform seemed sensual, attention-grabbing, and nearly _begging_ some rich businessman to spend all of his money on you. In reality, you caught yourself constantly pulling the neckline up to avoid flashing a coworker, tugging at the bottom of the bodysuit to keep the fabric from bunching in your ass, and having to place Band-Aids on the back of your heels to prevent blisters from forming through the night.

But you made it look good.

You always did

Gathering your belongings, you allowed yourself a last onceover of your appearance before exiting the girls’ dressing area and heading further down the back hall that also held the boys’ dressing area and the warm-up rooms for any competitors that would be participating in the matches for the night.

You opened the door at the end of the hallway, letting it slam shut as you walked down the few steps that led into an extension of the previous hallway, separate warm-up rooms on either side for each fighter. From the right room, you recognized the new athletic trainer’s voice, muffled by the thin walls, and knocked sharply on the set of sliding doors.

One of them was immediately pushed open, the trainer, _Iwaizumi_ was his name, leaning against the door frame, “Are they ready for them?”

Glancing behind Iwaizumi, you glimpsed a head of pale blond hair with a dark undercut, a wrapped hand running through it, “Yeah, Kuroo wants them in the ring in five.”

The trainer nodded, looking over a shoulder to talk to the man inside, “Miya--let’s go, we’ve got five minutes.”

There were a few seconds of rustling coming from a corner of the room you couldn’t see, but Iwaizumi was already knocking on the opposite pair of sliding doors, notifying the other fighter of the time expectancy.

“Well, what do we have here?” An amused tone spoke from somewhere closer than you had anticipated, causing your body to jump slightly.

You turned on a heel, a scowl already twisting your features as you faced the man who was currently tightening the end of a hand wrap, the one who you saw with Iwaizumi.

He inclined his head respectfully to you, strands of dyed hair falling in his brown eyes that he brushed back when he straightened himself, “Miya Atsumu, but you can just call me ‘Atsumu’.” Yet the grin he wore, smug in its own right, contrasted severely with his polite actions.

You copied his movements as you introduced yourself, terribly aware of his fleeting stare at your chest, “L/N.”

“Just one name?”

It was a genuine question, possibly an innocent one since he _had_ offered you both his family and given name. And you would’ve believed it, if not for the way something roguish danced along his irises, teasing at the edges of his black pupils.

“You’ll get the other one later,” you deadpanned before your attention darted to Iwaizumi and the other competitor exiting the room on the left. 

This must have been Sakusa then--a man with a head of wavy black hair, two distinct moles placed above his brow. And a man who was even taller than Atsumu.

Iwaizumi and you walked side by side as you exited the training area and stepped into the main hall, the two fighters looming at your backs as they trailed behind. But an almost content sigh from what sounded like Atsumu had you eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Man, I can’t wait to kick your ass, Omi.” There was laughter laced in his voice, the sound of Atsumu patting the other man on the shoulder.

A scoff was the only response in return from Sakusa.

The rest of the walk would have been silent if not for the teeming crowd that had already gathered in the main room where the ring was, clinking glasses and boisterous discussions reaching your ears even through the doors that closed this area off for employees only.

Your hand rested on the handle as you looked behind you to the two men who waited expectantly, “Both of you will follow me and when we reach the ring, enter on opposite sides. You can smile when you walk in, you can frown, I don’t care what you do--work the crowd if you want to--just make sure you end up in opposite corners and listen to the ref or your payment gets deducted. Got it?”

They both nodded and you were pushing the doors open, the patrons quieting as Kuroo tapped his microphone.

“Oh…” Kuroo’s grin curled mischievously from his place in the middle of the ring as he spoke into the mic, his voice reverberating through the speakers, “This is going to be an interesting match, ladies and gentlemen.” He gestured an arm to where you strode in with the two men in tow and the crowd erupted in cheers.

You could only guess what either of them were doing: Atsumu was likely winking at some random woman he found in the mass of people and Sakusa was likely doing absolutely nothing at all. It truly was no different than if this were a televised match.

Except, none of this was legal.

And that’s what made it all the more fun.

You were walking up the small set of stairs into the ring, Atsumu on your heels as Sakusa broke off to enter from the opposite way. Kuroo was holding out a hand to help you into the ring and there was no denying the way Atsumu’s eyes bore into the back of you as Kuroo lifted your hand once you were in the middle with him and twirled you for the crowd to gawk and applaud at.

You stayed at your boss’s side as he introduced the competitors, earning a new wave of whoops and hollers from the patrons.

It was a damn good thing Kuroo had made sure to install sound-proofing all throughout, lest anyone above ground overhear the late-night commotion.

You grabbed your sign that had a large number one placed on the front, lifting it to the patrons with a saccharine smile and flaunting around the ring in a small circle with Kuroo remaining in the middle. And by the time you reached the area that Atsumu was in, he had already removed the fitted shirt he wore earlier, rechecking his gloves. His movements caused the muscles in his arms to tighten and flex, his bare torso revealing old and yellowing bruises from previous practice matches.

It was much too late when you realized you were staring, and Atsumu was meeting your gaze beneath his lashes, teeth tugging on the strap of the boxing glove to tighten it before velcroing it down.

Roguish, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK SO,, for each character, im going to space their stories with the reader out in small sections like i mentioned in the last chapter, which means that this is just the first of some more parts for atsumu. i'll also be switching around the perspectives for this fight so like for example in the next part i plan on going back to the kuroo's friend perspective and then probably introducing the reader who will have a story with sakusa,, idk we'll see what happens  
> but iwa!! oh man,, alright, he'll also be getting a storyline too bc duh im in love w him why not
> 
> Other Socials  
> Tumblr: demxnscous


	4. IV. The Devil (Kuroo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell is empty and all the devils are here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a bit on the shorter side but man yeah im reverting back to my kuroo simping ways and i am not complaining,, also no i am not over the end of this chapter,, no thoughts, just the last few sentences on repeat. does this count as fluff? spicy fluff? god idk its just attractive thats all I’ll say

The velvet booth was plush against the back of your legs, bare from the dress you wore. A cocktail that Kuroo had ordered for you remained half-full, your fingers tapping the stem of the glass, “I do hope you realize this goes against everything we stand for working under the JPBA.”

To your left, Kuroo chuckled, “If any of this were legal, don’t you think I would’ve opened it up to the public by now to make even _more_ money?”

Your fingers remained restless, now fiddling with the neckline of your dress, as you watched the two competitors circle each other in the ring after Kuroo had returned to his seat beside you, the referee signaling for the fight to commence. From your viewpoint, you could see Atsumu’s lips move, likely forming insults to taunt Sakusa, but the commotion of the patrons drowned any and all sounds by the fighter.

Yes, it was a shame that none of this was legal, because if it were, the money that spectators would pay to watch a match between the two well-known boxers would be _substantial_. But with both men being signed to the MSBY Gym, it goes against professional regulations for two fighters of the same gym to compete in a match with one another--hence, why a bout such as this would never be permitted.

And despite having spectated both men fight in multiple matches in the past, watching them now was something else entirely.

Maybe it was the close proximity, maybe it was the nagging fear that everyone in this room could spend years in jail if caught here.

Or maybe it was the way Atsumu had thrown the first punch.

Brutal, quick, unpredictable.

‘The Rogue’ through and through.

It was a blow directly to Sakusa’s bare abdomen, but the man was quick to recover, already sending Atsumu a counterpunch aimed toward his face.

And it struck home.

Atsumu stumbled backwards slightly, regaining his composure as he moved his jaw from side to side, ensuring no real damage was done, thankful for the mouth-guard he had asked Iwaizumi to place along his teeth before the match begun; but a droplet of blood on the vinyl floor at his feet was enough for him to know that the punch from Sakusa hadn’t been pulled. 

Your fingers had returned to the glass, eyes never leaving the two men as you downed the remnants of the cocktail. From there, it was a succession of thrown punches by either opponent--far too rapid to pinpoint where each glove was landing on the respective victim’s body. 

The sharp tone of a bell brought you from your daze--the three minutes of round one were over, gone faster than you could remember, and the two men separated to their own corners. 

“It’s interesting, isn’t it?”

You dragged your gaze from the recuperating fighters toweling off their sweat to Kuroo, lounging in his spot on the cushioned booth, “What is?”

“They’re friends--they train alongside each other, see each other nearly everyday--and here they are, willingly beating the shit out of one another for a quick buck.” He spoke with an air of knowing, as if his observations were blatantly obvious, “Granted, it’s an _expensive_ quick buck that I’m having to pay them, but money is money.”

Their minute break was up, another sound of the bell and they were positioned in front of each other once again.

Watching fights like these never got easier to stomach, no matter how many you spectated--it only got easier to hide the disgust.

Not even the crowd’s shouts and cheers could muffle the sounds of skin being beaten to the muscle, desperate stomping of bare feet to grip the canvas floor, or the sickening echo of Sakusa’s glove catching Atsumu’s temple in a nasty hook.

It left you wincing, body subconsciously reeling away from the luring draw of the fight, your face turning subtly to the left and no longer pinned to the two men. The anticipation skimming along your body screamed at you to _watch_ , watch it all until the very end; but your mind didn’t know how much more raw violence it could take.

There was a warmth along the back of your shoulders.

Glancing to Kuroo, you noticed his arm draped over you, but his focus remained on the match. And then there was a hand dragging up beneath your chin, lithe fingers wrapping gently around your jaw and lazily ushering your eyes back to the ring.

“It’s alright to enjoy it.” The space between Kuroo and you dipped with his weight as he sidled closer, his leg a hair’s breadth from yours, as his hold kept you watching the men.

“Look at them.” His breath along the side of your neck, warm and enticing, had your body leaning toward him against your better judgment, “I know you want to.”

To hell with the boundaries you’d created between personal and work life--you were already here, and the Devil’s burned it away with a single touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kuroobrainrotkuroobrainrotkuroobrainrot
> 
> god hes so HOT in this,, UGH
> 
> Other Socials  
> Tumblr: demxnscous


	5. V. The Wicked (Sakusa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, there ain't no rest for the wicked because money doesn’t grow on trees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another short and ~~not so~~ sweet introduction of another hq boy,, our precious little germaphobe

It’s easy to forget what we’re made of.

Because beneath the blood, there is sinew; there is muscle, there is bone.

But Sakusa is easily reminded of that fact when his glove meets the side of Atsumu’s face--a wicked blow that sends the patrons in a frenzy for _more_ , a hunger for violence only Sakusa and his opponent, his _friend_ for fuck’s sake, can satiate.

Your curious gaze snagged on the taller of the men, sweat beginning to drip from the waves of his dark hair, as you placed a platter of food on the table before you.

“If you need anything else, be sure to let me know,” you smiled sweetly, tucking the tray beneath an arm as only one of the patrons situated in the filled booth deigned to acknowledge you, the rest cupping their mouths as they attempted to shout above the uproar.

You’d taken this job for the extra cash, having originally worked in the business above as a part-time employee before your boss was offering an _odd_ proposition for you to take night shifts to better fit into your schedule, as he had put it.

At that time, you hadn’t yet realized what, exactly, he had been suggesting between his words.

Turning on a heel to tend to the other guests, you also hadn’t been expecting a sudden and rough grip on your wrist, halting you in your steps.

“Almost forgot, doll,” the alcohol on the man’s breath, one of the patrons who had been busy screaming vulgarities just earlier, was cloying enough for your nose to twitch uncomfortably as he pulled you closer, “keep the drinks coming, will ya’?”

Your teeth grit together as you managed to maintain the feigned compliancy, if only for a better tip to pay your bills, “Of course, sir.” Pulling your wrist away subtly from the man’s grasp, you immediately headed for the bar, ducking beneath another server’s tray as you practically seethed under your breath about the explicit rules your boss had for patrons interacting with the workers and the _lack_ of physical touch that was supposed to take place to keep either party safe.

You decided you could take it up with Kuroo at the end of the night if you weren’t still itching to tear someone’s head off by then; you didn’t want your poor boss to be on the receiving end of your wrath. You also didn’t feel like losing your job tonight, either.

Sighing, you rested your forearms against the counter of the bar, leaning onto the polished wood, “Can I get a jug of beer?”

The bartender nodded his head, reaching for an empty glass pitcher and filling it, “Rough table?” He asked, setting the jug on the counter in front of you when it was full.

“Rough _night_ ,” you mumbled, shifting on your feet to ease the ache of the heels you were wearing. Taking the beer filled pitcher, you gave your thanks to the bartender, as you always did, and began walking back to the godforsaken table of men with more money than sense.

To your left, the bout continued on.

You didn’t know either of their names, didn’t care to learn them anyways. They were simply another batch of fighters to you, nothing more than whispered names in the girls’ dressing area, a line of words on the posted boxing schedules.

Your hands held tight to the pitcher, watching the edge of the liquid to ensure it didn’t flow over the lip of the glass. But maybe your attention should’ve been on the men in the ring, instead.

Distantly, you zoned out the commotion around you, eyes now set on the table intended to receive their requested refill of drinks.

There was a shout.

A single blow-- _hard_ , based on the intense sound.

And when you turned, you watched as the man with ebony hair staggered to the edge of the ring, the force of his movements straining against the ropes as a muscled arm was flung over the corded barrier, the other hand braced against a padded post.

Leaving you face to face with him.

You barely registered how the unexpected movement from the man caused your body to jolt, the beer froth at the top of the pitcher now dripping over the edge and onto your hand, down to the ground.

His eyes were a piercing black, the same shock of color as his hair; droplets of sweat sliding from his temple and along the line of his jaw, to his chin, as he stared at you. No--as he _glared_ at you.

“You should be more careful,” he grunted, his words coming out a bit breathless.

And then he was gone, whirling around to deliver a returning hit to the other opponent, leaving you standing there in utter shock, beer still collecting on the wooden floor.

You blinked--once, twice, “What...the fuck.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooo boy this next angst chapter thats gonna serve as background for atsumu is already off to a *fantastic* start and by fantastic i mean,, well,, it already hurts a bit and im not even halfway through :D
> 
> For sneak peeks of upcoming chapters and if you wanna put up w my complaining/random posts about the hq boys  
> ↓  
> Other Socials  
> Tumblr: demxnscous


	6. VI. The Fallout (Atsumu)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a reason falling into love is easier than falling out of it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea was requested by @mochalate, the inclusion of Shirabu in this chapter was inspired by an idea @smolmo sent me (a short story of Shirabu’s background will be included later). Also just to clarify: the end of this chapter takes place right before the atsumu v. sakusa match takes place (also the idea to connect the dots from the woman atsumu winked at in The Rogue to be the same woman as the one in this chapter came from @mochalate)

**Six Months Prior**

There was blood everywhere.

The vinyl of the ring, the wood panels of the floor, the walls, the cushions--there was blood everywhere and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Your eyes, stained with the deep scarlet of it all, remained pinned to that back door, tucked away in the corner.

It was all red.

Or maybe it was just the lounge itself, finally consuming you.

What did the difference matter anyways when it was all built on blood, built _for_ blood? Down to the way the velvet booths masked the fluid with their plush fabric, to the polished ground where it could easily be cleaned of any mishaps.

The only white surface in the lounge was the ring’s vinyl floor--because it was all for show. 

A pale, blank canvas for the fighters to paint.

A pale, deadly canvas for the fighters to prove their worth.

It was a show.

And Atsumu had been the star performer of a tragedy.

Each inhale from you was hollow, forced--in and out, over and over.

You couldn’t wait around like this anymore.

One of your hands found purchase on the table as you began to rise from your seat--but a strong grip on your arm had you halting.

“Y/n, _stop_ \--”

Glancing over a shoulder, you met Osamu’s warning gaze.

To hell with him for allowing this.

To hell with him for _bringing you here_.

“Get the fuck off me.”

He didn’t let go and all you could see was Atsumu staring right back at you, except this face wasn’t cut and bloodied, this face was pleading with you to stay here. But this face wasn’t his.

This face wasn’t of the man you were irrevocably in love with.

Osamu knew that once he let go of his hold on your arm, you would be running to those double doors that clearly stated _‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’_ across the top of the threshold. Why couldn’t you just sit back down? Why couldn’t you just calm--

A sharp pain from your foot in his groin had his fingers briefly loosening, Osamu doubling over in the booth with a low groan.

And you were already gone.

He cursed under his breath as he watched you cross the distance to the doors, pushing one open and slipping behind it, going unnoticed as the patrons surrounding the ring hadn’t yet calmed down from the high of the match and the constant flow of noise was enough to mask the sound of your ministrations.

It wasn’t as if this was Atsumu’s first fight; it wasn’t as if this was _your_ first time watching him. And for as much as Osamu knew that this fight had been more brutal than past ones, he couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t just _listen_ to him.

You knew what Atsumu did, you knew the price of it. Maybe, Osamu thought, maybe the price had come to be too high; maybe the price had come to be you.

* * *

There was no one to stop you as you found the door that led to the medical room based on the sign above; no one to hold you back as you slid the door open to find Atsumu sitting on an examination table, hunched over and head tilted back in exhaustion.

Those warm brown eyes of his, usually so kind when they settled upon you, now looked at you with unabashed confusion, a thin trickle of blood slipping from the laceration above his brow when he raised them gently, “Y/n?”

You were relieved.

You were terrified.

You were irate and on the verge of breaking down at the mutilated sight of him.

You wanted to say everything and nothing at all.

“You can’t be in here.” A man, decently tall with dirty blond hair that had been cut into bangs across his forehead, was approaching you with a blatant scowl.

“I need to talk to him.” Your attention remained on Atsumu as you spoke, but your words were directed to the medic in front of you who was still attempting to usher you out of the room.

You weren’t thinking straight, but you didn’t particularly care.

A woman beside Atsumu, another medic you presumed, continued to press a cotton pad to the cut below his eye, where the skin had swelled, “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to wait, he needs medical attention right now and we can’t have you being a distraction. In the meantime, just sit down and let us do our jobs, okay?” She turned to the male medic, “Shirabu, pull up a chair for her, will you?”

The other medic, _Shirabu_ was his name, grabbed a chair for you, setting it by an adjacent wall to where Atsumu was being tended to before going to the basin and rewashing his hands, slipping behind a divider that separated the room in half, likely to keep either fighters distanced from one another as they were cared for.

Minutes passed as the female medic continued to bandage and clean Atsumu’s wounds. Minutes passed and he wouldn’t even look at you, only keeping his gaze on his fingers that he flexed and closed every few seconds.

When she was done, she left you alone with Atsumu.

“You can’t keep doing this.” Your voice was hushed, your leg bouncing in unease.

He shifted on the table, the paper beneath him crackling with the movement, “This is what I do, y/n--what don’t you get?”

Your throat burned, constricting tightly as you looked at him. There was dried blood in his hair.

“Who the fuck even are you anymore, huh? What happened to you?”

“What _happened?_ ” He repeated, practically seethed between his teeth, “This is how it’s always been y/n, this is how it’s been right from the start and ya’ didn’t have _shit_ to say about it then, so how about what happened to _you?_ ”

This face, with its furrowed brows and curled lip, wasn’t the face of the man you loved, either.

“I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself, Atsumu, I can’t keep watching you bleed every fucking time you step into a ring, I just _can’t_ \--”

He was getting up now, dragging an abandoned chair behind him and letting it settle in front of you before he was straddling it backwards, “ _Why?_ ”

“Why?” You laughed, but it sounded strangled as Atsumu searched your face.

_Why?_

You knew why.

“Because I love you too much to watch you continue doing this.”

* * *

**Present Day, Fifteen Minutes Before The Match**

You had meant it, you had loved him all those months ago and all those years before, but it was never fated to be.

After that argument, after you’d confessed your hidden affections toward him and he’d confessed his own, the both of you had decided that, as much as you cared for one another, remaining as friends would be in the better interest for either of you.

And watching him now, after he finally convinced you to come back and spectate one of his fights ‘ _for old time’s sake_ ’ he’d jokingly said, you had to admit that Atsumu had come far in his career, illegal and legal alike.

You were proud of him; both his polished faces and his rough edges, you were proud of him.

You always would be.

Even if he was sending you a ridiculously cheeky wink as he made his way to the edge of the ring before shamelessly checking out the beautiful ring girl in front of him who was paying him no mind.

It’s funny how one person can cause so much pain and so much happiness, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mocha,, you asked for blood, heartbreak, and tears--i hope i delivered acjsldbhjsfa although i did start getting teary eyed during the middle but now i am listening to Like A G6 and i am happy, absolutely fine, not like this hurt my heart just a lil bit
> 
> Other Socials  
> Tumblr: demxnscous


	7. VII. The Bet (Suna)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Go on and place your bets, no one’s watching anyways

“She’s a pretty one, isn’t she?” Rough and violating hands traced the hem of your dress, calluses brushing along your thighs as you shifted uncomfortably in the man’s lap.

Sitting across the table, his companion lifted a glass in a mocking salute, “Damn right she is.”

Laughter was shared between the two; drunken touches from the man beneath you traveling from your legs to your waist, splaying over your stomach, cupping a breast.

You had never intended to let this go so far, simply becoming desperate for quick money a few months ago and finding yourself spending time with this man in exchange for an envelope of cash after each innocent meeting. He’d told you he only wanted some company, a pretty face to tell him everything would be okay, a pretty hand to hold in public when he would treat you to lavish outings, a pretty mouth to compliment him, and a pretty ear to listen to his every word.

And you were quite the pretty thing.

But when he called you tonight, asking if you’d accompany him to a club, you’d been inclined to reason that it was far too late and you were much too tired from work. That is, until he offered you an extra payment you couldn’t refuse.

* * *

Leaning back in the booth, Suna downed the rest of his drink, sucking on his teeth as Atsumu landed a blow to his opponent, sending Sakusa across the ring and bracing himself on the rubber cords. Suna chuckled to himself when he noticed the poor waitress passing by at the inopportune moment, spilling the beer in the pitcher she held before glaring at the ebony-haired man and sulking back to the bar with a scowl. 

His eyes were quick to return to the fight, an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when Sakusa returned the hit; it was a shame Osamu didn’t join him tonight to spectate his brother’s match, this certainly would be a bout to remember. Adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves, he rolled them to his elbows, resting his forearms on the table as his fingers drummed rhythmically upon the wood. 

Suna was beginning to grow bored, and as much as he would’ve liked to cure that boredom by scrolling through the notifications on his phone, he kept his device in his pocket, lest he wanted to have it confiscated and get himself kicked out. After all, Kuroo was strict on the policy, as he was the other rules, and Kuroo couldn’t risk the possibility of a patron taking discreet pictures and outing the location or the precedent of the lounge.

There was laughter to his right, loud and garish as it drew his attention to the table of two men and a striking young woman draped on the older man’s lap. He watched in revulsion as the aged man roved his hands over the curves of her body, grabbing, stroking, pawing at her dress as if he would remove the clothing for his own disgusting want. Neither of the men seemed to take note of the fearful expression veiling the woman’s face, her hands gently trembling in the way she coaxed his lustful touches away from her body, offering forced smiles to ease any unnecessary tension.

“I’ll make you a bet, my friend.” Suna overheard the older of the men say, “If Miya wins, you owe me a million yen.”

The other man chuckled heartily, nursing his glass before swirling the liquid inside, “And if he loses?”

“Then you’ll get this beauty for the night.” He gave a wide grin, his teeth too bright, as he squeezed the woman’s bottom to emphasize his words, raising his brows suggestively. Her false smile faded instantly, tongue stumbling over her protests with eyes widened in horror. Hushing her, the man wrapped his fingers around the underside of her jaw, demanding her to look him in the face when he spoke again, “Sweetheart, if it wasn’t for _me_ , you’d be on the streets by now, filthier than a damned dog; this is the least you can do to pay me back for my kindness.”

Suna watched her writhe in his grasp, her own small fingers gripping tightly around her assaulter’s wrist, tugging for him to let her face go. The woman’s chest rose and fell in short, panicked breaths, the man beneath her clicking his tongue disapprovingly and cooing about how there was no need to get so worked up. Her attention flitted around the lounge, searching for an exit she should have left through an hour ago.

Instead, they found the deep sage of Suna’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp better late than never :D so sorry for that little hiatus on this series, this one i think is the shortest i’ve written so far but there WILL be more to this storyline,, anywayysss it did take some time (and internal turmoil) to figure out who would be winning this fight but i came to my conclusion as i was washing my hands bc i zoned out over the sink dhsjbfshjlfdbsl
> 
> on a side note: i was very productive today like wow i deep cleaned my room, did all my laundry, even put my new mattress topper on and am now burning my favorite pumpkin spice scented candle (but the scent of the new memory foam smells like plastic and toxins and when it mixes w the candle, it makes the candle smell like cheap pumpkin perfume.. also the memory foam smell leaves a weird taste in my mouth,, plasticky,, does that make sense? i hope that makes sense or else this is gonna seem weird) i still have an econ quiz that i need to study for tonight and i'll take that tmr but man am i tired,, i really could just fall asleep on this mattress topper,, it just feels so nice
> 
> Other Socials  
> Tumblr: demxnscous


	8. more information!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> have a question or thought you'd like to contribute? feel free to comment on here or send in an ask on my tumblr @demxnscous :)  
> (for organizations sake, an ask is preferred but if you don't have a tumblr, don't worry ! on here works too)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont mind me,, just need to compile all this info in one place on here so that it's not buried in the comments section bfjahbajlsdha

**Asked by SUCCMYDICC:**

_“I can’t wait to see some illegal and dangerous shit go down in the next chapter😍 I’m lowkey excited but also scared since I just realized that I don’t really know h o w illegal this can actually get. Like, what makes it illegal? Is it the time duration for the fights? Can they get weapons? Is killing allowed?? What are people betting with? If someone does get seriously hurt, are there medics on sight ready to take care of the situation and all the injured have to do is to not snitch? Who is Kuroo’s friend?? IS IT KENMA??I’m sorry if I’m stressing you out with all these questions!! I just get really curious and you don’t have to answer every single one💀💀”_

1) so what makes the whole thing illegal is that its a fight club,, which can get you mutual combat charges in court (meaning that two ppl fought willingly, and its a charge bc the safety of others is at risk unlike where its professionally done and there are regulations) now with that being said, even tho kuroo does take precautions like how a professional match would, its still not governed by the main organization for japanese boxing, which makes it illegal still

2) time durations of the fights are the same,, pretty much they go on until someone yields or a person is on the ground past the allotted time

3) BIG NO NO TO WEAPONS, KUROO MADE SURE OF THIS,, he actually has metal detectors installed in that receptionists area and the guards outside pat you down even before you walk in

4) AN EVEN BIGGER NO NO TO KILLING,, kuroo DEFINITELY doesnt want that on his conscious. he has three simple rules for the fighters: you cannot have drugs in your system when you fight, you cannot have alcohol in your system when you fight, and no cheating (this includes the whole weapons thing and also illegal moves in boxing). The reason for this is to not only protect the fighters to avoid more injuries than necessary, whether that be from cheating or being in an inebriated state, it also protects the patrons; a fighter who isn’t in a sober mindset could easily create a dangerous situation for everyone in the room.

5) everything. they will bet with e v e r y t h i n g. this could be something as simple as money, this could be jewelry, cars, houses, favors, girls, or it could be some darker stuff… (remember, betting between patrons isnt regulated and kuroo stays out of it for the most part bc these are some powerful ppl we’re talking about here)

6) There are medics ! two of them to be exact, one for either fighter, and if you include iwaizumi as some help, make it three. more well known boxers such as sakusa or atsumu can’t exactly walk to the nearest hospital for a broken nose without the press being up their asses so kuroo decided it was best to have on-sight medical attention for both the patrons and the fighters so that suspicions wouldn’t arise from neighboring emergency rooms. As for snitching,, everyone who enters the lounge is REQUIRED to sign that contract and pay the fee (even the fighters), and if you dont, then you simply dont get in. if someone threatens to snitch despite having already signed the contract, kuroo will be shutting them up in other ways and they will be banned from the lounge

7) speaking of the contract! i know you didn’t ask about this but i thought i should clarify–technically, it’s an illegal contract, so its not actually legally binding bc you can’t even take it to court without the authenticity and legality of trl being questioned,, its more of a contract that’s based on trust and mutual respect

8) kuroo’s friend is you ! i was referring to the pov of part 1 and 2 where the reader is kuroo’s friend, like how i’ll be referring to this pov as the ring girl since that’s who the reader is for this storyline

**Asked by SUCCMYDICC:**

_“If you don’t mind me asking more questions (dndndb im just really curious and coming from a kinda corrupt country and hearing stories from my relatives has made me really interested in things like these), you mentioned that mainly powerful and rich people were attending these events, is there a chance that the yakuza is involved in this? Like, what kind of acquaintances does Kuroo have up his sleeves?👀”_

for kuroo’s acquaintances,, it can vary:

the people who helped jump start this whole thing includes some of his other work friends who are higher up in the ranks for the JPBA (who he trusts a lot or else he most certainly wouldn’t have asked for their help) and kenma but of course bc he’s rich and already sponsoring hinata in his boxing career so why not just put some money in TRL as well? for the clientele that comes into the lounge, sometimes he knows them well, sometimes theyre just acquaintances, and sometimes theyre complete strangers. Kuroo has a system for getting new clientele: he’ll either ask around his well known patrons to see if they know anyone else who’d be interested in joining the club or he’ll “scout” new clientele (he does this at official matches, seeing who has front row seats and asking around, doing his research, to find out if the person is an avid boxing fan w a fairly ‘clean’ background. he ONLY chooses new clientele that have bank accounts that look like a phone number,, after all they have to be able to pay the fee)

He also has gym owners from nearly every gym on his clientele list. before i explain why, i should probably explain that there are many boxing gyms around japan but a majority of them are focused in metropolitan areas in tokyo and osaka,, anyways each gym has their own list of boxers that go to that gym (you HAVE to be signed w an approved gym or else you can’t compete in professional). NOW,, bc of this, kuroo has gathered many gym owners so that not only can gym owners offer their own clientele a place to practice actual matches (even if they are illegal) but TRL has a constant flow of new and fresh fighters–it’s a win-win for everyone.

For the yakuza,, I’d like to say that Kuroo avoids them as MUCH as possible (but he has had instances in the past with them). The last thing he needs is a damn mafia up in his business and scaring away new clientele

I don’t know much about the yakuza but i’d also like to think that at some point,, something is bound to happen with an illegal crime organization and an illegal fighting ring in the same area 😳

**Asked by origami_fish** :

_"question,,,uh,,,are the medics licensed? where does kuroo find his medics? and the hospital grade medical supplies?"_

ooo alright, okay, so remember how i said kuroo's clientele consists of extremely wealthy patrons? yes well one of those patrons just so happens to be a doctor who has his own practice and who often sees these athletes. for kuroo it was a no brainer to try and see if the doctor was trustworthy but eventually with a few invitations for late night drinks kuroo decided to slip in a little comment about this "underground fighting ring"--the doctor was interested, kuroo took him there without telling the doctor that he was the owner, and the doctor loved TRL. kuroo immediately popped the bubble, asking if the doc knew any medics looking to make some extra money and the doctor was more than happy to oblige. Kuroo actually ended up waiving the doctor's fee for membership for TRL bc the doctor helped him get his medics and the supplies needed (now w that being said, kuroo still makes money off of the doc bc the man drinks like a sailor)

**Asked by SUCCMYDICC** :

_"you said that there was a no touching policy, what happens if some of the patrons breaks the policy and harasses some of the waiters? Will Kuroo let it go with a warning to keep the money coming, or will he do something else?👀👀"_

for the policy:  
kuroo DOES give them a warning (even tho its stated in the contract and they should already know) BUT he only gives them one warning. Depending on the severity of the situation, the punishments will differ. Sometimes it will be a ban (length can vary), sometimes it's a fine, sometimes its a complete revoking of their membership and they are never allowed on the property again. But here's where it can get messy... throughout the patrons' time at TRL, Kuroo has cameras everywhere w the exception of bathrooms, meaning that he has dirt on every person that comes into TRL--BUT, when he's dealing with more powerful ppl who's word would hold more sway than his, is when it can start to get bad. It's pretty much their word against his and if the patron goes to the police or tries to expose TRL just for spite, Kuroo would throw back the same threat that he has dirt on the person and even more friends to spread the lovely news. Kuroo plays a dangerous game when it comes to this. almost forgot to add that these rules DO also apply to the fighters, it doesn't matter how much money the fighter brings in, Kuroo can't have his working environment unsafe for his employees as they're the ones running the show pretty much


End file.
